Death

in "Hadji Murad"

That we as humans are aware of our own mortality is a given fact, and some have gone so far as to say this condition is what makes us human. What is scary about death is not necessarily pain and suffering, for there can be death without these conditions. Rather it is the complete end of one’s existence while the world carries on, the end of all thought, feeling, and imagination. Such an absolute of nothing is incomprehensible and, moreover, fearsome to most of us, and for this reason we have concocted a myriad of ways to deal with the consciousness of this impending doom. Some of the more popular methods are subscribing to religions promising life after death; ignoring and covering up death in hopes that it won’t bother us; staring death in the face and living with little regard for one’s own mortality; and finally accepting death as a natural way to end a life.

Death to Tolstoy is "that most important moment of a life, its termination and return to the source when it sprang" [15]. Life is implied to be a continuous circle, starting with birth and ending with death, with the starting and ending points being closely related. When we die, we return to the source from which we sprang, namely, the earth, or in a more spiritual sense, nothingness. This concept of life being circular has roots in the oldest descriptions of time as circular, rather than linear as we see it today. Everything comes in cycles, seasons which repeat themselves, a river which floods every year, or shorter cycles like the phases of the moon or even sunrise and sunset. Ancient communities had no concept of linear time; it made no sense, when everything in the surrounding natural environment was and will always be cyclical in nature. Thus the same concept could be applied to humans; a life too was cyclical in nature: before we are born we are nothing, our existence is empty. As infants we are fragile, small creatures. We grow into healthy adults, then lapse back into fragility and convalescence in old age, and eventually leave the earth more or less as we had entered it. Given this understanding of death, there is no tragedy or horrific notion to be feared. Yet every character in "Hadji Murad" except him for whom the story is named bears this fear of death.

Tolstoy’s characters visualize this favorite Russian theme in two ways: glorified death and realistic death. In glorified death, the victim dies heroically for some great cause, like "defending his Tsar, his Fatherland, and the Orthodox Faith," and the description of the process of death is void of any unpleasantness such as pain or dismemberment. This is the death which is always spoken of, how glorious it would be to die in battle, and what an honor such a death would bestow upon one’s family. Given that the belief in this fantasy is so widespread among the soldiers in the story, it is noteworthy that no actual death occurs that is even remotely described in these terms.

Realistic death, on the other hand, is the present, real-world manifestation of death; it includes adverbs and adjectives pertaining to pain, suffering, and gruesome disfigurement. It is the unspoken death, that which is seen by all but never mentioned, and it is precisely the fear of this death, of real death, which requires the veil of glorified death to be used whenever the subject is mentioned.

The end of everything is far too monstrous to be imaginable, at least for the Russian soldiers, who cover up death in a veil of self-deceptive trivialization. War was excitement, thrill, and "the consciousness of being part of an immense whole directed by a single will." The typical soldier "never pictured the other aspect of war," namely, death. This demoting of one of life’s most salient features implies that, while any of the soldiers would admit that they understand what death is, and know that they could die at any moment, their lack of living life with respect to death indicates inauthentic existence. That is to say, the decisions made do not take into account the one-way nature of time, and the possibility that, because of the factual presence of death, all decisions must be made with care and prudence. In fact, the exact opposite is represented in the generals’ and emperor’s swift and thoughtless decisions, often (ironically) precipitating the deaths of others.

Some of Hadji’s murids, and a few soldiers employed another means to insulate themselves from the fear of death by staring it in the face. While challenging death might at first glance seem to dispel fear, it only masks it as one cannot live authentically and make prudent choices when constantly acting rashly in the face of danger. Eldar’s cry of "let us fly at them with our swords" shows the other side of a calm nature, not aware of death but fearing it, challenging it as if it were an arch-enemy, and not the Russians. As people who are afraid of the dark sometimes talk loudly to drown out the noises of the night, so too is death challenged and feared.

Another mechanism for allaying fear of death is the prospect of immortality as engendered by various religions. When Hadji Murad finally does meet his grisly demise, "He felt nothing more and his enemies kicked and hacked at what had no longer anything in common with him." What seems to be simply a pleasant display of creative writing actually implies much more: Hadji Murad, the "him," is not equivalent to the body. We cannot help but remember that the author, Tolstoy, was not at all unfamiliar with the Christian faith, and that he ardently believed in the concept of the body being only a temporary resting place for the soul, which resides in heaven once its stay on earth is complete. The possibility of immortality as a mechanism for coping with death is expressed in the last lines of the poem, "my body sinks fast to the earth, my soul to heaven flies faster" and is standard fare with the Islamic faith, which Hadji Murad and his murids ardently adhere to.

Another case where this soul-body dichotomy arises is in the manner in which Tolstoy describes Hadji Murad after his death. "The head of Hadji Murad" or "the body of Hadji Murad" are mentioned, but never "Hadji Murad’s head." The former two grammatical constructs imply a distancing of the object from the possessive noun, while the latter case is more tightly bound, both literally and in the reader’s mind. While subtle I think this is an attempt by the author to show a distinction between the difference between an embodied soul (before death) and a body whose soul has "flown to heaven." Here the name takes the part of the soul, the person who was Hadji Murad, and the objects are simply parts of the body in which the soul resides during its stay on earth.

The promise of an afterlife is not, however, mentioned anywhere else in the story, and in no way is associated with the Russian soldiers, though they themselves doubtless believed in orthodox Catholicism. Thus while a seemingly valid excuse for turning a deaf ear to death, immortality has little bearing in this particular story.

Like the other characters, Hadji Murad has seen plenty of death, and is aware of its nature, as evidenced by his recollections of battles over the years. Yet in retelling a friend’s death he manages to recall not lofty ideals but grisly details, and admits that he felt fear in the face of danger. Somehow he manages to grasp the nagging importance of death, and uses this knowledge to his advantage by understanding the limitations set on him in life.

Hadji Murad’s awareness of death might come as a surprise to some readers, given the nature of his career. Nevertheless he had a propensity for deep thought and prayer, weighing choices before any critical act. This careful attitude evinces an understanding of the finitude imposed upon him by mortality, and thus it could be said that Hadji Murad is the only character in the story who lives authentically. Hadji’s hours spent in deep thought is certainly a start contrast to the quick-handed decisions made by the Russian commanders or the Tsar himself, who chooses the fates of citizens after only a moment of deliberation.

The reason for Hadji Murad’s cognizance of the true nature of death is unfortunately obscured in the story, but the result thereof is quite clear, and Tolstoy gives him due praise for this. The ability to rationalize one’s choices by the visualization of one’s finitude, and to thoroughly understand that death comes to everyone sooner or later, is the only true authentic existence. Employing deceptive devices such as challenging or ignoring death can only lead to false understanding of death, which itself implies a false understanding of life. And this is, by no means, a desirable goal.